


Full Moon

by MissjuliaMiriam



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Animagus, Gen, Rituals, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 17:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissjuliaMiriam/pseuds/MissjuliaMiriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius knows things that he shouldn't, but he's making the choice to help, not to hurt.</p><p>An AU where Sirius accepted his upbringing as a Black, and is a Slytherin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Full Moon

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic is just a short glimpse into this AU, and the events of it may be assimilated into a longer fic later, depending on what I decide to do with it. Basically, Sirius is a Slytherin, and he's a bit different from canon, but he's still Sirius at heart. He's also sort of friends with James? They're friendly, at least, and Sirius counts him as a friend, though it's a little less than mutual before this.
> 
> Really unedited, woops.

Remus' partner in Potions class is Sirius Black. He's one of the less unpleasant Slytherins, and he's even moderately friendly with James, but he still puts Remus on edge for some reason. There's just something about him that's utterly distracting, something sly, dark. But it's not the kind of darkness that so many of the other Slytherins give off; he's not slimy, it's a clean, smooth darkness, like the shadows of a new moon. Remus can't put a finger on what it is about Sirius that gives him that feeling, that diverts him so much, and it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up sometimes. Like right now.

He's mincing pickled toad liver, trying to ignore the way that Sirius is watching him out of the corner of his eye as he stirs their potion. It's the perfect colour, at least, and Remus tries to focus on that instead.

"So, Lupin," Sirius says, and Remus nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Um," says Remus, "yes, Black?"

"Tomorrow is the full moon."

Remus freezes, his knife half way back down to the cutting board. He goes completely still, his train of thought stopping in its tracks. Panic flares in his gut, and he jerks, dropping the knife. "Um," he says, and then tries to gather himself, because this isn't incriminating _at all_. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

"But I'm sure you knew that already." Remus can feel Sirius' eyes on the side of his head, his dark grey gaze piercing.

"I-I didn't, actually," Remus says, lying through his teeth. Lying badly, probably, because his hands are shaking, and Sirius is still _looking at him_.

"I'm certain you did," Sirius says, quietly, and reaches out to pull the blade from Remus' shaking fingers, then nudging him out of the way to take over the cutting. "Please stir that," he says, nodding at their cauldron. It's beginning to bubble ominously, and Remus takes up the stir stick immediately.

"Er," says Remus, staring down at the midnight blue liquid in their cauldron. "Why would I know something like that? I don't- I know some purebloods practice moon-based religions, but I'm no pureblood. You know that."

"I also know that you're not entirely pure human," Sirius says, his voice dropping to an even lower level. He's almost silent, and if it weren't for Remus' wolf, he probably wouldn't be able to hear him at all.

"Th-there's no way," Remus says, and his voice is too loud. A few people look up, and Remus can see James off to the side with concern on his face. Remus clears his throat, and ducks his head. "I mean, of course not. Why would you think that?"

"I saw you," Sirius says. "At Samhain. The full moon fell on the 31st this year- I was out in the moonlight. I heard the screaming. You don't get along well with your wolf at all, do you?"

Remus swallows, hard, and knows that he's gone pale. His hands are shaking harder, now, and he almost bares his throat. He knows, though, that that will only make it worse. He has little enough control as it is, letting the wolf's instincts capture him is a Bad Idea. Bad. Really. "Please don't tell anyone," he whispers. "Please."

Sirius raises an eyebrow, and tosses the minced liver into the cauldron. Remus stirs automatically, looking out of the corner of his eye as Sirius rest his hip against the desk, facing him. "What makes you think I would," he says, still quiet. "I don't have anything against you, and more than that, James is my friend. One of the few I have. Why would I sacrifice that just to hurt you?"

"You're a Slytherin," Remus says, blunt. "You're all out for yourselves. I mean nothing to you, and though James would never forgive you, the Potters are a Light family. You have nothing to gain from being friends with him."

Sirius looks a bit taken aback by the venom in Remus' tone. "Nothing to- look, I know you Gryffindors don't think much of us Slytherins, but that doesn't mean we can't have _friends_."

Remus shakes his head, and squeezes his eyes shut. "It doesn't matter," he says. "I just- you can't tell anyone."

"I found out a month ago," Sirius says. "If I haven't told anyone by now, I'm not going to tell anyone. Look, I just- I want to help you. I found something."

"You what?"

"I think there's a way we can ease your transformations. James and I, I mean, and Pettigrew too." Sirius runs a hand through his hair. "We can't really talk about it here. Class is almost over, and it's too easy to overhear."

"If people are already eavesdropping, it's too late now."

Sirius shakes his head. "I set up a privacy charm. Just enough to muddle what we're saying, no one will notice. It'll just sound like we're talking too quietly to be properly understood."

Remus sighs, and stares at his hands. They're still shaking a bit, but he's calmed a lot. Merlin knows why, the situation hasn't gotten any better. "The library," he says, "tonight. Right after dinner, okay?"

Sirius nods. "Of course. I'll see you there."

Remus almost breathes a sigh of relief when Sirius falls silent, but then their cauldron explodes, leaving them both covered in a bright purple goo that smells like grape. There's a tense silence between them for a moment as they turn to stare at each other, and then they realize that they completely forgot about their potion, so caught up as they were, and they both nearly fall over laughing.

 

When Remus gets to the library that evening, James and Peter at his side, Sirius is already waiting for them. It set Remus on edge immediately, given that he hadn't seen Sirius leave the Great Hall. He's lounged in a chair in a private corner of the library, a stack of books on the low table in front of him and a small black book in his hand with nothing on the cover.

Sirius looks up when Remus and the other approach, and he stows his little book away in his robes. "Hello," he says, and sits up in his chair a bit.

Remus nods. "Hello, Black. Mind if we sit?"

Sirius shakes his head, so Remus takes the seat across from him, and Peter sits next to him. James stays standing, just behind Remus' right shoulder.

"Not going to sit down?" Sirius asks, raising and eyebrow at James. Remus turns a little to see his reaction, but there isn't much of one. James just shrugs, and narrows his eyes a little. "Suit yourself, then," Sirius says. "This isn't really about you anyways. Well- I say it isn't about you, but it involves you at the least."

"What's going on, Black?" Remus asks. "You have information that you shouldn't, and I'd like to know what you want. Or what you think you can do."

"Well," says Sirius, and taps the top of the pile of books in front of him. "I did some light reading after I stumbled upon you, and I found something interesting regarding werewolves. Or, really, wolves in general. They're pack animals, Lupin."

"I know that," Remus snaps. "I, of all people, do not need a lesson in wolf behaviour. Get to the point."

Sirius rolls his eyes. "Rein it in, Moony. I'm saying that your wolf, just like any wolf, is going to be much more comfortable if it has companions."

"And where is it going to get companions?" James questions, from behind Remus. Peter is muttering 'Moony' under his breath like it's the best thing he's ever heard, and is clearly not listening any more.

"From us," Sirius says, and pulls his small black book out of his robes, then tosses it on the table. "That's a complete guide to animagus transformations. I nicked it from my family library over the break."

"Ani- that's illegal, isn't it?"

Sirius shrugs. "Only if we get caught. It's not dark magic or anything, just a bit risky. The Ministry is too strict about this kind of thing, and we're underage anyhow. Look- who cares? At the rate you're going, you're going to be dead before you graduate anyway. Your wolf is going to tear you apart, so who cares if you're doing something illegal? Do you want to die?"

"No," says Remus. "I don't. I hate what I am, but- I don't want to die."

James puts a hand on Remus' shoulder. "So, we would be able to transform into animals, to run with Remus on the full moon? Would we all be wolves, or...?"

"It doesn't work like that," Sirius says, and pats the book. "You set up a ritual, then meditate to find your animal. Everyone's is different, just like a patronus. The ritual passes you through the first transformation, and then back, and then all you have to do is practice. It's old magic, probably as old as magic itself.”

Remus hums, and James leans forward over his shoulder. “Do you think we can do it?”

Sirius nods. “I've done as test already- I did the first step on my own. I know what my animal is, and I've transformed a few times, but I'll get better with practice. That's easier with other people, though, so I decided to talk to the rest of you before we do this.”

“The full moon is tomorrow,” Remus says. “There's no way to be ready.”

“No.” Sirius shakes his head, then grabs the book off the table and tosses it to Remus. “We likely won't be ready until next month's moon, but it should be soon.”

“What's your animal?” asks Peter, leaning in. “We're going to have to wait to find out ours, but I want to know yours.”

“A dog,” says Sirius. “A great black shaggy thing.” He grins at Remus, something wild and thrilled lighting his grey eyes. “We'll get along just fine, Lupin.”

“If I don't die tomorrow,” sighs Remus, leaning back in his chair. He passes the book up to James, and closes his eyes. “I can already tell it's going to be a hard one, what with the scare you gave me today.”

“Sorry,” says Sirius, somewhere between sincere and unrepentant. “Had to do it.”

“Did you really have to do it _now,_ you tosser?” James asks, his nose buried in the book.

“Probably not.” This time Sirius isn't sorry at all. “Anyhow, I'd best get back to my common room before my housemates start sniffing around. We'll meet here, same time, five days after the moon; I'll start prep for the ritual in the mean time. Read up.”

Then he stands and brushes past James, leaving nothing but a stack of books and an echo of presence behind.

 

The full moon is hard, and Remus takes four of the five days given to them by Sirius to recover. He's still feeling drained when he, James, and Peter arrive in the library on the fifth evening, to find Sirius waiting for them again.

“Do you eat?” James asks, prodding Sirius' shoulder. “I didn't see you in the Great Hall.”

Sirius shrugs. “I eat.” Typical Slytherin, Remus thinks, answering the direct question, but not the implied one.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “So, are we going to do this?”

Sirius nods. “I've got everything we need in my bag.” He pats the book bag he has with him, and then stands. “Follow me.”

Sirius leads them through the halls up to the seventh floor, and they watch as he paces back and forth in the middle of one of the hallways, muttering to himself under his breath. All three Gryffindors are surprised when a door materializes in the wall, and Sirius opens it for them and bows them inside.

The room that appeared is small, round, and mostly empty, with only a round table set in the middle with a silver bowl sitting on it, and a circle of white stone laid out into the floor. There's a window in the far wall that gives them a perfect view of the waning moon, the only light in the room. Sirius goes around and lights candles placed evenly around the circle, and then goes to stand at the edge of the circle, with his back to the window.

“It's a ritual room,” he explains, answering a question no one asked. “We'll do the first steps here.”

“This looks like dark magic to me,” James says, looking around warily.

“It's not,” says Sirius. “Just trust me. I'll lead the ritual, and Lupin, you have to stay out of the circle, or else we'll end up locked in here with a very pissed off werewolf. They don't take well to being drawn out when the moon isn't full, though with this kind of ritual it's very possible.”

Remus swallows, and nods, then steps back outside the circle. He goes to sit down with his back to the door, watching carefully as Sirius positions James and Peter at either side of the alter, and then gives them quiet instructions to close their eyes and place their hands flat on the altar, in the light of the moon. Sirius himself moves around to the other side, so that his back is to Remus and his shadow is cast right to the edge of the circle, and then he raises his hands, palms up, and says in an even tone, “May the Goddess lend Her clarity to this ritual, performed in Her light, and bless us as we find ourselves.” He reaches into his robes and pulls out a vial of water and a few feathers, which he places into the bowl and then pours the water over them. “For Her blessings, I offer feathers lost by a bird on the wing, and water from the Black Lake.”

“Is this part of the ritual?” whispers Peter, and James shushes him.

“Alright,” says Sirius, and then he places his hands on the altar as well. “Now for the fun part. I'm going to lead, like I said. James, you should catch on fairly quickly, you must be familiar with at least some of this kind of magic. Pettigrew, just follow his example.”

James nods, and then Peter does, somewhat more hesitantly. Sirius smiled wryly. “I had to do this by myself, be grateful that someone else can do the closing rites while you're recovering. Now, don't speak unless prompted, or this entire thing could end very badly.”

Peter squeaks, but he says nothing more as Sirius raises his hands again. “I name myself Sirius Black, and call upon the magic that dwells within myself, and that is held within this place, and that dwells within those who stand within this circle to come together in this Rite of Transformation.”

James and Peter both gasp as something tugs on their magic, and Sirius tenses. “I call upon those who stand within this circle to state their names, and be known by this Rite of Transformation.”

“I name myself James Potter,” James gasps. “And enter willingly into this Rite of Transformation.”

“I name myself Peter Pettigrew,” Peter says, his voice nervous. “And enter willingly into this Rite of Transformation.”

“I call upon our magics, and the magic of this place to teach James Potter and Peter Pettigrew their Wild nature.” Sirius lowers his hands, and places one of them on James' shoulder, and one on Peter's. James jerks, and Peter squeaks again. Remus, still tucked up against the wall, watches worriedly.

“I call upon our magics to impress upon James Potter and Peter Pettigrew the truth of their Wild nature, and so allow them to become themselves.” James and Peter both still, and then, slowly, a change overcomes them, their silhouettes morphing in the light of the moon. Remus stares as they change, the exact process alien and indefinable, but in seemingly no time at all, Sirius is standing with his hands raised above a bright-eyed stag, and a large, grey rat. And then, in a much shorter time, the animals become James and Peter once again.

“Do you know yourselves?” Sirius asks, his voice strained.

“I know myself,” James gasps, “as James Potter, and as a stag who is Prongs.”

“I know myself,” says Peter, “as Peter Pettigrew, and as a rat who is Wormtail.”

“And I,” says Sirius, “know myself as Sirius Black, and as a wolfdog who is Padfoot. May the magics that dwell within us three, and the magic of this place impress this knowledge into our minds, bodies, and souls, and so be released. So mote it be.”

“So mote it be,” echo James and Peter, in unison.

Electric tension that Remus hadn't felt gather in the room relaxes, and James and Peter both slump to the ground. Sirius' head bows, and then he knelt beside them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.

“We've done well, lads,” he says, sounding exhausted. “We've done well.”

Remus stands, and steps into the circle, feeling a crackle of magic along his skin that makes his wolf shift in the back of his head, and then he comes to kneel beside Sirius. “That was amazing,” he says, looking at Sirius in wonder. “How did you know to do that?”

“I knew the words of the ritual from that book,” Sirius says. “It only went as easily as it did because I made an offering first. I didn't bother, the first time, and I was weak for days after. As it is, I'm drained.”

“I feel fine,” says James, glancing up. “It should have taken more, shouldn't it?”

Sirius shakes his head. “Most of it is the effort of manipulating the energy, controlling it. I was leading the ritual, so I did that. You just provided the power.”

“Thank you,” says James, quiet. “You've done us all a service.”

“I'm a rat,” says Peter, and sits back with his palms on the floor, bracing him up. “I don't really know if I'd call that a service.”

“Merlin, Peter,” says James, and then they all laugh, slumped together around the altar, magic buzzing in their veins.

 

On the next full moon, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs all run together for the first time. Wormtail curls into Padfoot's scruff, his claws digging into the thick fur as the wolfdog gambols about with Moony, play fighting, learning each others' scents, something clicking deep in their brains that means _pack_. Prongs gallops along beside them, racing ahead, and then prancing back, his antlers gleaming pale ivory in the moonlight. Neither wolf nor dog can catch him, and he tosses his head, proud and elated.

And when the forest rings with a wolf's howl, for the first time it is not a pained, tortured noise. Instead, it is harmonized by a dog's differently-pitched howling, and the thunder of a stag's hooves, and the squeaking of a small rat.


End file.
